


Ty Soplivy Soplyak:  Part One

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-02
Updated: 2002-03-02
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:37:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Krycek, Skinner and even Mulder encounter some surprises.





	Ty Soplivy Soplyak:  Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

TY SOPLIVY SOPLYAK: Part One

## TY SOPLIVY SOPLYAK: Part One

#### by Josan

Title: TY SOPLIVY SOPLYAK: Part One  
Author: Josan  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website: http://www.squidge.org/terma/josan/josan.htm  
Date Archived: 03/02/02  
Category: AU (Alternate Universe)  
Pairing (Primary): Krycek/Other  
Pairing(s) (Secondary): Well, Skinner is in it, and Mulder sorta shows up.  
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: R  
Spoilers:   
Permission to Archive:   
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes:   
Warnings: EXISTENCE? What's that????  
Disclaimer: The X-Files characters were originated by CC, 1013 and Fox. The others all belong to me.  
Summary: Krycek, Skinner and even Mulder encounter some surprises.

**A VERY LONG PROLOGUE TO A STORY**

Skinner watched them escort the man in the orange body suit with less than his usual pleasure. 

Usually he felt a thrill at seeing the rat-bastard hobbled with chains, empty sleeve and hand manacled to another around his waist, shuffling his way down the hall to the glassed interview room. It was a sight he had come quite to enjoy these past five months, though he had tried hard never to show it. 

Krycek, of course, knew, even if he didn't say anything. 

They had shaved his head again. His scalp had been covered with fuzz the last time he'd come to interrogate the man who had finally come into his hands. Who had voluntarily placed himself there. 

That had been the deal. In return for handing over to them all the information Krycek had squirreled away on the Consortium and its dealings, on its connections to other illegal and often treasonous groups - once all that had been confirmed, that he, Krycek, was to be given complete and total immunity. 

Krycek had been smart enough to approach others than the F.B.I. and Skinner with the offer. 

If it had been up to him... But it hadn't. The best that he could do was to finagle himself in charge of Krycek's security. Because that too had been part of the deal. That, until all checked out, Krycek was to place himself in custody, not only to be readily available to answer any questions, but to ensure that he would be alive to do so. 

Krycek hadn't been too pleased to be turned over to Skinner for that purpose. But other than a token protest - mind you, one good enough to see to it that those in charge of the investigations would occasionally inquire about Krycek's continuing good health - Krycek accepted the situation. 

Well, thought Skinner, it was either that or a quick death in some alley, if he were lucky. A less quick one if he were not. Because the rat had finally burned all his bridges behind him. If he wanted any kind of life, his only chance lay with the information he offered and this deal. 

So Skinner had hidden him away in the securest place he could think of, a prison for special cases. A prison that _officially_ did not exist. For people deemed to be of great risk not only to society but to the government. Twenty-four hour camera surveillance, unannounced daily room and person searches. No privacy. No movement without permission. Without chains and armed escorts. Guards whose loyalty and trustworthiness were equal to none. Because to betray either was to join the few inmates in their glassed cells. 

To Skinner's secret disappointment, all the material Krycek had produced had proven not only valid but priceless. Those above him were more than satisfied that Krycek had carried out his part of the bargain. They were more than willing to fulfill theirs, no matter what Skinner presented as argument. 

Ostensibly, he was here today to indicate that the next part of the deal was ready to be put into effect. A new identity had been prepared for Krycek along with all the appropriate immunity documents and a release date had been agreed to by all departments concerned. 

All except Skinner. 

He had other plans for Krycek. 

He waited until they sat Krycek down in the chair that was bolted to the floor. A few more chains saw to it that the man could not move off it until released. The last of the four guards double checked that everything was solidly padlocked before he nodded to Skinner and left the room. Not that he and his colleagues would be far away. They took up positions around the room's perimeter so that they could watch all that was going on, though not hear anything as the room was sound-proofed. 

This meeting, as per Skinner's orders, was neither being taped nor filmed. 

Krycek sat quietly, his face bare of any emotion. As usual, he waited for Skinner to break the silence. He knew he was treading a fine line with Skinner who would love nothing more than be given an excuse \- any excuse - to beat the shit out of him. The presence of the guards was not only to protect the interviewer. 

Skinner sat on the only other chair in the room, also bolted into the floor some ten feet away from Krycek. With feigned casualness, he loosened the buttons on his suit jacket, crossed an ankle over a knee and settled back as though he were here for a friendly chit-chat. 

"You'll be happy to know that _officially_ we seem to be at the end of this charade of yours. The information you've given us has all panned out. The courts in several countries are going to be fully occupied for the next few years." 

Krycek merely looked at him with those expressionless eyes of his. 

Skinner had been hoping that the man would break down under the conditions he was forced to endure. Others had done so. He had been hoping that some of the information would have proven false so that there would have been an excuse to keep the man here, confined like the rat he was. But like the survivor he was, Krycek would soon be allowed his freedom, even though, in Skinner's mind, there would be no dishonour in not keeping their side of the bargain. Why should they? When had Krycek kept his? He had betrayed them while posing as a member of the F.B.I. He had killed Fox Mulder's father. Been involved in the abduction of Dana Scully, in the killing of her sister. Had stolen government secrets, used them to his own benefit. Had provided Mulder with information that had led him into near death experiences. Had beaten Skinner up, had killed him, had controlled him for his Masters' pleasure. 

Which was the purpose of this day's visit, one that had not been cleared through channels. 

A personal one. 

One that was of no great importance to anyone other than Walter S. Skinner. 

One that might give him his excuse to toss Krycek back into his cage and throw away the key. 

"Those with whom you made this deal are very pleased that things have turned out so well for them. I, on the other hand, feel it is time for us to work out a little deal of our own." 

Again no response from Krycek. Skinner felt an overwhelming urge to beat the nothingness out of the other man's face. Instead, he slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and fisted them. It would not do for the guards to see what he wanted so much to do that he was almost shaking with the effort it took to restrain himself.. It was enough that Krycek knew. 

Krycek moved his chin up as though offering it for Skinner's pleasure. 

Skinner discovered he was grinding his teeth. Consciously, he forced himself to relax his jaw. 

"In all the documentation that you handed over, there was nothing about the nanocytes." 

"Should there have been?" Krycek's voice was raspy as though he seldom used it any more. Probably he didn't. No one spoke here to him unless it was to issue orders. And then conversation was not permitted. The only people Krycek had spoken to in the last five months were those who had been sent with questions. And even those meetings had been fewer and fewer over the last weeks. 

"You did say you were turning over _everything_ , Krycek. Seems to me that you really haven't kept up your side of the deal. Hope you're finding your quarters comfortable because you may be spending the rest of your life in them." 

Finally Krycek's face shifted from blankness to reveal some emotion. Just not the emotion that Skinner had been expecting. 

He smiled. 

"Frankly, Skinner, I would have thought that you'd have preferred to keep that information under wraps. Not much chance of promotion up into the power echelons if it were known that you were controllable. And had been controlled." Krycek smiled again at the effort with which Skinner forced himself to remain in his chair. "No, I thought that information should be something kept between us. Besides, I knew that you'd jump at any excuse to keep me in a...ah...secure environment and I didn't intend for that to happen." 

Skinner's smile was cold. "I find that hard to believe, Krycek. In fact, you want to know what I believe?" 

Krycek was once more expressionless and silent. 

"I think," Skinner leaned forward in his chair, "that there is no information on the nanocytes left anywhere. If there were, there would have been some reference to them somewhere in all the material that you handed over. There was too much of it for you to have had the time to go through everything and remove any reference to them. Orgel's name popped up in a couple of places, but only as one of their scientists. Nothing about his work." 

Skinner sat back, took his hands out of his pockets and clasped them together on his belt. "No. I think that you have nothing left to deal with, Krycek." 

Krycek cocked his head to one side, not looking at all perturbed by Skinner's comments. "Do you have a cell phone on you?" 

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "A cell phone? Why? Is there someone you want to call?" 

Krycek nodded. "Well, that I want you to call." He smiled again, a sure, confident smirk that had Skinner tensing up again. "Just to prove to you that I still control the nanos." 

Skinner glared. "Really?" 

Krycek shrugged, as best he could, restrained as he was. "Insurance, Skinner. Did you think I would place myself into your or anybody else's hands without insurance? You want the palm pilot and all the info that was extracted from the documentation on the nanos. I want my freedom. I shall prove to you that I have that information and, if you want it, you will keep to the agreement." 

Skinner slowly stood, anger radiating off him in waves. "Someone else has this information?" 

Krycek nodded. "And before you find yourself using that old clich of `We have ways of making you talk,' let me tell you that yes, with drugs, you probably could get certain information out of me that you could use, but it wouldn't help. My partner and I took that into consideration. I have no idea what password he'll accept until he gives me a certain clue. And can you chance that the information I'll give you will provide you with the appropriate password? 

"I know that you don't really believe me so, if you'll get a cell phone... Oh, you can put as many tracers onto it as you like. Makes no difference. If you'll get a cell phone, I'll give you a number to call. Just to prove to you that I'm not lying." 

It took more time for Skinner to arrange for a cell phone in the interview room than it took to make arrangements that whatever signal went out of the room would be tracked. Krycek spent that time sitting quietly in his chair, head bowed, eyes closed. 

"All right." Skinner took his chair again, cell phone in hand. "Show time, Krycek." 

Krycek slowly raised his head, opened his eyes. Skinner punched in the 13 digits as Krycek rhymed them off. 

Skinner held the phone to his ear, eyes firmly holding Krycek's. 

There was one ring. Then nothing.. The line went dead. 

Skinner glared at the phone in his hand. He was about to make some disparaging remark when the pain hit, like a knife slicing through him. It rapidly increased so sharply that he couldn't find the breath to scream. He dropped the phone, crumpling up onto the floor, writhing in the grip of pain that he remembered all too well from his nightmares. 

The guards rushed in, quickly freed Krycek from his chair and dragged him out as the prison personnel ran to deal with Skinner. 

Three days later, Krycek was once more escorted to the interview room. He staggered more than usual as he hadn't been allowed much sleep in the intervening days. Interrogation had been almost constant as to the cause of Assistant Director Skinner's breakdown. All Krycek would say was that he would speak only to Skinner. He said it once, then remained silent. 

Skinner didn't look any better than he did. He was pale in spite of the veins still faintly blue on his face and his hands trembled like an old man's. 

Skinner waited until they were alone, under the watchful glare of more than the usual quota of guards and cameras. Under protest, the audio part of the taping mechanism had been turned off. 

"I take it the call was a signal that the nanos were to be activated. That they are not activated by the call itself." 

Krycek nodded. 

"There have been two more...episodes since the call. I assume that they will continue until you are released." 

Krycek had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Insurance," he whispered. "The deal still holds. I go free, you get the palm pilot and the info. There is a time limit to this. If it is not met, then the nanos have been programmed to attack on a sporadic sequence. You'll never know when or how hard they'll hit. Your decision, Skinner. The pleasure of knowing that I'm rotting alive in this place or your living a pain-free life." 

There really wasn't any option. "How do we work this out?" 

Krycek nodded. "Got your cell phone? Punch in these numbers and go back to your office. You'll get instructions in the next hour or so." 

Skinner's hand trembled as he punched in the numbers. Again the phone rang once before going dead. He waited for the pain. It still hadn't come when, sitting in his office, his computer signalled that a message had appeared in his inbox. 

&&&&&

That night, Krycek was led out of the prison, wearing his own clothes which hung on him. His feet were chained, but with enough leeway so that he could walk without shuffling. His hands - because he had been given back his prosthetic - were manacled in front of him and attached to a chain that went around his waist. 

His escorts led him to the large black sedan where Skinner sat waiting for him behind the wheel. Neither man said anything as Krycek settled in the passenger seat, was belted in, the door shut and the escort marched back to their duties. 

Skinner glared at the man who sat staring in front of him as if this were just an everyday occurrence. He had been so certain that the rat was going to break, that he would have his revenge on the man for what he had done to him that he had never envisioned this day. He found the pain of disappointment almost as sharp as that of the nanos. 

After a minute, he put the car into gear and took off for the destination that had been specified in the e-mail message. He had been advised to come alone with Krycek as the sender's patience was at an end and he hoped Skinner would not want the blood of innocent people on his hands if the exchange did not go as intended. He would be watched to ensure that he followed instructions. 

They had been driving for about ten minutes when Skinner's cell phone rang. As ordered, he was carrying one that received e-mail messages. The location, it informed him, had been changed. And he had a time limit to get to it before consequences. 

With a curse, Skinner quickly changed direction, heading for the new location. 

Krycek, head back against the seat rest, eyes still closed, smiled. "Think Mulder will be able to follow that manoeuver on your part?" 

Skinner cursed again, under his breath. After a few miles, he ventured, "What makes you think that Mulder is following us? Your partner's instructions were quite clear on the matter." 

Krycek opened his eyes, turned his head so that he could see Skinner's face, green in the reflected light of the dashboard . "Mulder would feel that you shouldn't be doing this without back-up. That, since he no longer is with the F.B.I., he can do so on his own, without clearing it with anyone. Not even you. Though we both know that even if you had ordered him to stay out of this, he wouldn't have listened. He's rather predictable, is Mulder." 

Skinner found he was grinding his teeth again. 

The new location was a small plateau, about twenty miles away from the prison. The road to it went from paved to gravel, gradually narrowing so that it was wide enough for only one car at a time. Skinner pulled up into the clearing, parked the car, as per instructions, by the shrub/tree line that circled the open space. He opened the car door, got out and looked around, trying to see something, anything, in the Stygian night. 

The site and the night had been well chosen, whether by purpose or by chance. There was no moon, no stars. The only light was in the far distance, that of the city's reflection in the night sky. There was no sign of anyone's presence. 

The cell phone rang again. With a scowl of restrained anger, Skinner hit the correct code for his e-mail. 

"I've been ordered to take you out of the car and remove your restraints." Skinner opened the passenger door and placed the muzzle of his gun against Krycek's throat. Krycek's head went back in his attempt to keep from choking. Carefully, one handed, Skinner unlocked the chains holding Krycek's feet together then released the handcuffs from the waist chain. He didn't remove the cuffs but he did stand and remove the gun from Krycek's throat. 

"Out." 

Unfortunately, Krycek complied without protest, without making any kind of move that would have given Skinner the excuse he so wanted to use the gun on the man. 

Following instructions, Skinner moved the two of them to a position that was about centre to the clearing. He didn't like being this much in the open, but he figured Krycek would make a good shield if it turned out that he needed one. And, as Krycek had foreseen, Mulder would by now be positioned somewhere in the shrub/tree line, covering him. 

The two men stood there, silently. Skinner kept his gun against the back of Krycek's head and nervously inspected the shadows for the rat's partner, ears on the alert for any sound. 

When it came, it was from above, not from ground level. 

A helicopter, matte black against the night. 

It hovered for a bare breath over the clearing, almost distinguishable from the sky behind it then a flash and the sound and sight of a car exploding back along the road. 

Skinner cursed. 

"The next one has your name on it, Mr. Mulder." The voice from the helicopter was distorted, almost mechanical. "Do come out where we can all see you. Very wise of you, Mr. Mulder. Throw your weapon ahead of you, now face down on the grass, if you don't mind." 

The chopper rose several feet higher, as though widening its perspective. "Mr. Skinner, you will release Mr. Krycek completely and allow him to come this way. If you should try anything, Mr. Mulder will pay for your actions." 

Skinner cursed all the while he removed the cuffs, as he watched a stooping Krycek make for the helicopter which had dropped to hover just above ground so that all Krycek had to do was throw himself in. 

As the helicopter rose, two things happened. First, a small bundle was tossed out of the side that Krycek had entered. Then, as the chopper rose even higher, there was another flash and Skinner's car exploded in a ball of flame. 

By the time Skinner and Mulder had confirmed that each was unharmed, both cars were blazing and the helicopter had disappeared into the blackness of the night. 

The bundle proved to contain a palm pilot and several computer disks filled with Orgel's notes and those of others who had conducted experiments using the nanocytes. 

It took the local fire authorities twenty minutes to make their way to the site of the explosions. 

&&&&&&

**SIXTEEN YEARS LATER**  
**(STILL PART OF THE PROLOGUE)**

"They're on their way." 

The man with the receiver in his ear nodded at the information, even though the speaker was miles away. 

"The Sheriff told him that it would take about an hour to get out to your place." 

The man grinned. "Pissed off that much, was he?" 

There was the sound of laughter. "Man, that Big Federal City Suit pulled up here with both his driver and his _Pee Ay_ , and could barely keep his lip from curling about how _backward_ we all are. Told Duggan that his men would be accompanying him, even though Duggan knows that you're expecting only the man by himself. When Duggan reminded him of the arrangement, _he_ informed _us_ that he would find his own way up there." 

The speaker snickered. "`Course the mere the sight of them suits was enough to shut everybody up. Even when they waved some bills in front of their noses. Suit finally had to admit that he needed to abide by the agreement and the sheriff kindly condescended to drive him out." 

The Deputy laughed again. "Man, they even tried old Freddie, in the bar. He said he'd be right interested in telling them where you were, but he wouldn't show them. So they gave him the hundred and he snatched it, told them that you were somewhere up in the hills behind the town and high-tailed it out of there before they could grab that bill back." 

This time the man joined in the laughter. "Tell Fergus that the bar tab this weekend is on me." 

"The whole weekend?" 

The man shrugged. "Sure, why not. Friday night to Sunday midnight. Not every day we get to kick Big Federal City Suit ass around here." 

The man settled in his location and waited the arrival of the Big Federal City Suit in question, aka Walter S. Skinner, retired Deputy Director of the F.B.I., recent member of the President's Counsel on Domestic Terrorism. All round big-wig. 

In D.C. 

He chortled to himself. Must have been a bit of a shock for the man to discover that here in the hills of Tennessee, his name and reputation carried no weight. That he was nothing but an outsider. Even with the local Law. 

Hell, even after sixteen years, they were still outsiders. Until someone from the real Outside came in and stuck their nose where it didn't belong. Then, lines drew up and they were on the inside. 

Of course, it didn't hurt that the bar bill was picked up once a year in maintenance of good relationships with the locals. And that they kept _their_ noses clean and where they belonged. 

He checked his watch. Usually it took maybe half an hour from what passed as the local town to get up here. The fact that Duggan was taking the long road meant that he had taken great offense. And that he was making certain that his passenger wouldn't be able to find his way back here again, not using the road anyway. 

There were other means of finding their homestead, but they had prepared for that as well. They didn't believe in leaving anything up to chance. Probably why it had taken Skinner this long to track them down. 

When the car stopped at the end of the path, it was so covered with dirt that its colour was completely hidden. The man shook his head. He wondered, in passing, if Skinner still had a spine left. He had an idea over which roads Duggan had taken him. Federal Suits often forgot that the local constabulary had to adapt to the environment, not the other way around. It may have been the Twenty First Century in the City, but here in the Hills, it was still the time of the Civil War. 

&&&&&

"What do you mean, I just follow that path?" 

Skinner was speaking through clenched teeth. He had expected to be treated as befitted his rank and now this toothpick-chewing excuse for a law enforcement officer had informed him this was as far as he was going. 

"Just that. You follow that path and someone will meet you. And stay on it, don't go awandering off." 

Skinner's eyebrows couldn't rise any higher. He sent the man the glare that had been known to make Assistant Directors break out in perspiration. To no effect. The man just got out of his car, yawning loudly as he stretched and looked around the vista. 

Grinding his teeth in frustration, already writing in his head the report that would see this man up on insubordination charges, Skinner opened his door and got out of the car. 

They were at the foot of a mountain, another one. Mainly bare rock and boulders, with sparse ground cover, some shrubs and what looked to be -- to one side -- a thinned out forest that had never recovered from its thinning. At least, he thought, they would not be driving over the rutted things that passed for roads in these parts. He doubted his insides were ever going to forget the journey up here. 

Mind you, he started up the path, it was just the kind of place a rat would find to hide out. 

"Stay _on_ the path, Mr. Skinner. Wouldn't want to have to explain to your driver and that fancy Pee Ay you have what happened to you." 

Before Skinner had time to ask, the air broke with the sound of howling and baying. From out of one of the small dips that made the non-treed side so perfect for hiding, there came a small pack of dogs. Skinner counted seven of them. "What the hell..." 

"They won't bother you so long as you stay on the path." 

Skinner took stock. They were a variety of sizes, most seeming to be a mixture of some kind, though two of them reminded him too much of wolves for comfort. They had taken up positions to either side of the path, heads down, ruffs raised, mouths open displaying excellent teeth, all growling menacingly. 

Skinner turned his body slightly so that he could keep an eye on the animals yet be ready to take a run for the security of the Sheriff's vehicle if necessary. "What happens if I should take a step off this path?" 

Duggan had cleaned himself a space on the hood of the car. He sat back against it, arms crossed, watching the drama playing out in front of him. "Well, few years back," he drawled, "we had a couple of kids who decided to test that very idea. One of them lost half an ass cheek and the other had to have his leg amputated." 

Skinner was shocked. "Why weren't these animals shot?" 

Duggan shrugged. "What for? They were only protecting what's theirs." 

"I suppose," Skinner allowed his unease out as scorn, "that no charges were laid either." 

"No. Mr. Krycek was very understanding about the situation." 

" _Mr. Krycek_?" 

The Sheriff shrugged. "Wasn't like the kids didn't know the place is private property. That trespassers aren't appreciated. And the kids did break the law. Still," Duggan exaggerated his drawl, " it was thought pretty decent of Mr. Krycek not to press charges." 

The man listening hid his smile behind his hand. That little incident had gotten the community their own infirmary staffed by a full-time nurse with links to a local hospital. 

Skinner continued up the path, careful of his gestures. The pack accompanied him step for step. 

Still, thought the man, he had to give Skinner credit: he wasn't turning back. 

There was a small dip where the path took a turn to the left, so that though Skinner could hear Duggan whistling to himself, he could no longer see him. There the pack moved in front of him, barring his way. Skinner had the presence of mind to stay very still. He had no trouble hearing the engine coming down the path. 

This Hummer was the real thing, thought Skinner. Not one of those remodeled things for aging Hollywood action heroes. And he didn't doubt that the reason for its being here was utility. He had never experienced roads - if you could call them that - like the ones in these hills. 

It stopped about twenty feet from him. The driver opened the door and stepped out, rifle in hand. After a moment, Alex Krycek lay his rifle on the hood of the Hummer, whistled, and the dogs, all but one, disappeared. 

The two men stared at each other, quickly assessing the changes time had made, understanding that though older, neither was less of a threat to the other than he had once been. 

The man watching knew that Alex was noticing that Skinner hadn't aged all that well. He looked older than his 66 years. His hair was a thin fringe of white that he kept clipped close to his scalp. The glasses were thicker. The face tighter, more bulldoggish. The dark grey suit, though tailor made, couldn't hide the fact that the body was thinner, less muscular than when they had last met. Mind you, that was made up by the aura that Power had given him. Skinner had risen high in the power echelon and he wore that power well. 

The man tried to see Alex from Skinner's eyes. He too had aged. Well, it had been sixteen years! But he carried those years better than Skinner did. He was dressed casually, in pale washed jeans and a heavy navy sweater. His face was not as tight as it once had been. He still had hair, more grey now than sable, which he kept fairly short. The watcher would have liked Alex to wear his hair longer but Alex refused to go along with that idea. 

Alex had put weight on. Hell, that hadn't been hard. By the time he had gotten a good look at Alex in the helicopter, he had been ready to go back and blast both Skinner and Mulder to kingdom come. But all Alex had wanted was peace and quiet and so he'd brought him here to these hills and the property he had bought up for them to hide in. 

The man aligned his rifle sights on the man in the suit. Those first weeks, months Alex had had to relearn what it was like living without being under constant surveillance. It had taken him time to mentally accept that he could piss or take a crap without being filmed from a variety of cameras, that the door would not be opened every few hours so that the room would be searched, so that he would be ordered to strip and his body searched as well.. That if he wanted to sit in a chair and read all day, he could. That if he wanted to go outside, he could, and could walk until he could barely stagger back to house and bed. 

He still had the occasional nightmare of his time in secret custody. 

For that alone, thought the man, Skinner should die. Hell, wasn't like Duggan would do anything much about it. He and the lawman had a sort of understanding about certain situations. Sometimes even up here the Law couldn't get the people put away who needed to be put away. Sometimes those people disappeared. Duggan never looked very hard in those cases. 

He raised his head from the sight and instead focused on the two men who still hadn't broken silence. 

The dog edged closer to Alex. She was a terrier crossbreed, tenacious and faithful to one master, and one master only. The man watching had the scars to prove it. Hell, they couldn't have a fight - not that they had many of them, but they were both stubborn men and, now and then, things did flare up and the air needed clearing - without that damn dog jumping in to Alex's defense. 

Skinner shifted his weight from one side to the other and Laika growled, showing her teeth. 

Damn, but he was going to remember to give her an extra treat tonight for that. He had been against this meeting from the beginning, but Alex had insisted that Skinner was no threat to them. The immunity documents were all properly signed and sealed. There were copies in the proper places and, since the court system and Justice were still dealing with the fallout of his side of the deal, there was no way that Skinner could try to weasel out of keeping his end of the deal. 

The man hadn't been so sure, but he had left the final decision to Alex. Didn't mean that he couldn't provide security for this meeting. 

"Well," Krycek broke the silence, " you wanted to see me and you have. What do you want, Skinner?" 

"Answers." Skinner's tone was brusque, officious. "And the truth." 

Krycek shook his head. "The truth. You sound just like Mulder." 

"Mulder's dead." 

Krycek shrugged. "Had to happen. As it will to all of us." 

"He... _disintegrated_." Skinner still couldn't believe the manner of Mulder's death. 

Krycek nodded. "Well, there was only so much the vaccine could do. It brought him back to life without allowing the Replicant to develop, but the Rebel scientists didn't know how long it would last. It was very experimental, even for them." 

Skinner gave his head a little shake, as though ridding it of his last memories of a man whose body had decomposed in front of their eyes. It had taken only four days for Mulder to go from a healthy man who was playfully tossing a child, his son, up in the air, to a gelled mass on a hospital bed. 

"He barely had three years." 

Again, Krycek shrugged as though he really didn't care. The watcher knew that he hadn't been that nonchalant about Mulder's death nor the manner of it, but as Alex had said, the vaccine had been experimental. Still was, as far as they knew. 

Laika growled again and Krycek allowed his hand to rest on her head. "I agreed to a twenty minute meeting, Skinner. The clock's running." 

"You have something to get back to?" Skinner's bitterness coloured the air. 

Krycek just shrugged again. "Was that the only answer you were looking for?" 

Skinner got himself under control. It was a visible effort. The watcher wondered just what the hell reason Skinner had for coming out here? 

"The nanocytes." 

Krycek nodded, showing he was paying attention. 

"The information you dropped out..." 

"That was the deal between us, Skinner. You got all the data that I had and I went free." 

Skinner waved his hand as though relegating that to the sidelines. The gesture upset Laika whose head lowered, lips curling around her open mouth, displaying all those fine teeth that she had. 

"`Sokay, babe." Krycek voice put an end to the sound but not to the animal's wary stance. 

"The information, was that all you had? All of it?" 

Krycek cocked his head to one side. "All that I ever found." 

"There's not more of it somewhere else?" 

Krycek grimaced. "Look, Skinner, I know what you thought and probably still think of me, but I said I would give you all that I had and I have. If there's any more, then I don't know about it." 

"Would there have been another palm pilot?" 

Krycek couldn't prevent the flash of irritation that crossed his face. The watcher focused on his rifle sight again. "No. There were only two palm pilots that were programmed for the nanocytes. One was for Orgel, the other for you. There may have been - and probably were - other test programs that were set up in one of the lab computers, but you were given copies of all that and, besides, I'm pretty sure that particular lab was among the ones that I and the Rebels blew up. Why? Is someone threatening you with them?" 

Skinner's face iced over. As though having to force each word out involuntarily, he spat, "No. But I have cancer and it's a form that they've never seen before. It's not responding to any kind of treatment. Scully thought it might be a reaction to the nanos." 

Krycek shrugged again. "Seems to me that I remember reading that unless activated, the nanos played no part at all in human biology." 

"Well," muttered Skinner, "it seems that might be a false theorem." 

Krycek sighed, looked down at Laika who was still completely focused on Skinner. "Look, Skinner, I have nothing to give to you. I'm sorry about the cancer, but I handed over everything I had on the nanos. That was my part of the bargain and I kept to it. The only thing I might be able to give you is the name of my contact with the Rebels, assuming he's still alive and in touch with them. I've been out of the game for sixteen years. I have no idea if any of the information I had then is still valid." 

The watcher could see the knowledge that he wanted - _needed_ \- this information stuck in Skinner's craw. He had to clear his throat and even then nothing came out. Krycek went to the Hummer, reached inside for a pad and something to write with. He jotted down a name and a telephone number. 

With Laika heeling at his side, Krycek approached the man in the suit and carefully extended his hand with the piece of paper. Eyes holding his, Skinner swallowed and then, with an almost reluctant nod of his head, he took the paper and slipped it into his suit pocket without looking at it. 

Krycek turned back to his vehicle. "Skinner. A word of advice, which you don't have to take. If you want a faster, smoother trip back to town, you might start by apologizing for your Big City attitude to Duggan. And Skinner, there will be no further meetings between the two of us." 

At Krycek's signal, Laika jumped onto the front seat and moved over to the passenger side. Standing by the open door, Krycek waited for the man from his past to find his way down the path, back to the dirt encrusted car and the local Sheriff.. He could hear the sound of an engine starting and knew from the way Duggan was pulling out that Skinner hadn't apologized. 

Alex slowly counted to twenty, absorbing the peacefulness of the vista. "Okay. You can come out now." 

The man who had been part of the shadows now moved out of them. He was dressed in relish camouflage, a similarly patterned balaclava over his head. Gloves and soft boots completed the outfit. His expertise with his weapon was belied by the casual way he held it, as though it was nothing dangerous at all. As he approached Alex, he pulled the balaclava from over his head and grinned unrepentantly at his partner. 

Alex grinned back. He shook his head in false exasperation. "Misha." 

The man called Misha shook his head back in exactly the same manner. "Alexei." 

In exactly the same tone. 

Because, other than the fact the he was chronologically twelve years younger than Alex, that his hair was longer, that he had two arms, Misha was the exact double of Alex Krycek. 

**END OF PROLOGUE**

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